Ouahigouya
ByEarly the next day Alu returned with his 4×4 to take us to Koro, near the border with Burkina Faso. He popped in to see if we were ready and said he was going to fill the truck with petrol. As we were packing and cleaning up the mission house Faana arrived with our breakfast, what a service!
When asked how much we owed the church for the nights we stayed in the mission house and all the food Fanna said we should pay as much as we thought appropriate and could happily afford. He seemed delighted with the settlement. We travelled in Alu’s truck through the villages of the plateau and down the twisting road which took us on hairpin bends down the falaise. As we took the bends, clipping the edges, sending stones hurtling down Alu continually turned to speak to us cheerfully regaling us with village names and tipbits. Once we reached the plains we followed sandy tracks for about two hours to get to Koro.
Alu was an enthusiastic rather than a careful driver who went far too fast. So he often missed the right road at forks approaching villages. We scattered hens as he called greetings and apologies over his shoulder. Blasting into a square where a group of women were using a camel to raise water from a well the looks of astonishment and alarm turned only to smiles and waves as they recognised Alu’s departing truck through the plume of dust he left in his wake.
At one point he hit a patch of soft sand and we spun right off the road and ended up in a groundnut field, happily still on all four wheels, but facing back the way we come. That stunned silence, when you realise that the truck is still upright, there are no bones broken and the engine is still running, was broken by Alu explaining cheerfully that the road was bad. We diplomatically persuaded him to slow down a bit. We really were not in that much of a hurry!
Once in Koro we looked for transport to Ouahigouya (Wagouya). The choice was a cheap bush van which we thought would leave immediately or a marginally more expensive but potentially more comfortable bus, which was supposed to leave at two o clock and would take three hours. We opted for the bush van and waited. We chatted to other would be travellers and waited. After a tour of Koro, which took half an hour and should have taken ten minutes, we waited some more. Koro was a small dusty border town with mud brick houses and corrugated iron roofs. There was a mud brick mosque, which we studied minutely and sparse markets which we inspected in detail. Every time we dropped by where the bus van was parked there was still no sign of the bushvan filling with passengers. So we eventually decided to take the bus, even though we had already paid the bushvan driver.
The bus people were friendly and confidently assured us that the bus would depart at two. So we bought bus tickets straight through to Ouagadougou (Wagadugo), the capital of Burkina Faso. Since we had already paid for our seats on the bush van we decided not to ask for our money back. That would allow the bush van driver to leave as soon as he had filled all the other seats. It looked like it was going to be a long wait for him. The bus departure time was then delayed until three and it too waited until it was full before it left, which was at four. Waiting in Africa is a fact of life to be endured gracefully if not enjoyed. In the meantime, while we were waiting for the bus, the bushvan driver found us and gave us our money back. We were really impressed with his straightforward honesty. In the event the bushvan filled up and left at about two thirty.
When we left Koro on the bus we headed for the border with Burkina Faso. This was a very minor border crossing consisting of a simple building at each side, with a flag pole of course. Being in a small bus with locals who made this journey regularly the border formalities leaving Mali were efficient and very friendly, but the time was slipping by. On the Burkina Faso side we showed our passports to two friendly policemen who thanked us for visiting their country and wished us a pleasant stay. We thought we might go on to Ouagadougou that night but the bus stopped at Ouahigouya and by seven o clock it was dark. Transport in West Africa always takes twice as long as everyone, including the locals, says it should so our late arrival in Ouahigouya came as no surprise.
We knew about the L’Amitié Hotel which was about 1km from the centre of the town and set off to find it. We walked, rucksacks on our backs, as two dusty shadows heading up the main street out of town. As we walked out past the street vendors cooking sheep and goat meat on open fires and big pots of rice and couscous we asked for directions. The stalls had paraffin lamps, candles and open fires and shadows danced across the dusty road. People were preparing evening meals with studied activity. Attentive children gathered in the pools of light around the cooking pots and adults drifted like spectres in the gathering night. Everyone we spoke to was very helpful and friendly. One man in traditional robes walked with us to show us the way to the hotel and chatted amiably about our journey.
The hotel was well appointed, clean and friendly. The road from Koro to Ouahigouya was an unsurfaced red latterite road which was very dusty. So when we arrived at the hotel we were covered from head to foot with red dust. Without a hint of irony or sarcasm the hotel desk clerk gave us extra soap and towels.
Much refreshed by several showers to rid ourselves of red dust, we ate a welcome evening meal and slept well. Having eaten a hearty breakfast we walked back to the bus station to get the ten o clock bus. The bus station was busy with travellers heading to Ouagadougou. There were the usual collection of women with big bundles of things to sell, babies and toddlers in tow. Men with sheep and goats, a cluster of hens with their feet tied lying in the dust and individual travellers with little luggage. Amazingly the people there greeted us with friendly smiles and remembered we had come from Koro the previous day and we found our tickets were still valid.
This article is part of a series describing our tour of West Africa
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